


Mad Girl's Love Song

by houndsoflove



Category: Prometheus (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:26:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houndsoflove/pseuds/houndsoflove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-film burbling. Don't mind me.</p><p>The stars go waltzing out in blue and red;<br/>And arbitrary blackness gallops in:<br/>I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mad Girl's Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> I saw Prometheus today and wrote this soon after. There's a lot of vague (and most likely incorrect) references to canon details in this, so many apologies for that! I also wrote this very quickly, so I probably made a lot of silly mistakes. Excuses, excuses...  
> Very much indebted to ''[by their own suggestions fell'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/530605/chapters/940985) by [irrelevant](http://archiveofourown.org/users/irrelevant/) and '['let us go then, you and I...'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/434062) by [M_Leigh](http://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Leigh). I loved these fics and wanted to do my own take on David and Elizabeth's post-film exploits.  
> Poem quoted here is 'Mad Girl's Love Song' by Sylvia Plath. Sorry, Sylvia.  
> Amazing illustration provided by [baruyon](http://baruyon.tumblr.com)!

Dr Shaw awakens to uncertain blackness, the ship beneath her cheek and belly thrumming like a heartbeat. It takes her a long time to become Elizabeth, her mind crawling reluctantly back into its agonised shell. She reaches for the bag beside her, body so weak that it seems to take an hour, the ghost of movement in her arm frustrating as her brain rushes ahead, urging her on. Eventually she grabs it and drags it towards her, unzipping it with unsteady fingers. David’s eyes flicker open from inside, and he smiles; placid, patient. ‘We’re here,’ pants Elizabeth, ‘it’s time.’

_I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;_  
_I lift my lids and all is born again._  
_(I think I made you up inside my head.)_

One week. Three days.

‘Charlie,’ Elizabeth groans, twisting under the thin sheet covering her, teeth gritted in grief and pain. ‘Charlie, oh, Charlie.’  
‘Dr Shaw.’  
Elizabeth stops writhing, eyes suddenly open, blinking against the sweat dripping from her hair. David’s head is gazing at her, eyebrows lightly furrowed in imitation concern. ‘You were dreaming.’  
‘Yes, I know,’ whispers Elizabeth through trembling lips.

_The stars go waltzing out in blue and red;_  
_And arbitrary blackness gallops in:_  
_I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead._

Elizabeth takes David’s head and reunites it with his perpetually twitching body, left lying in an empty room of obscure purpose. She spends a while placing the ruined neck against the wire-sprouting shoulders, then moving it back, pondering it like a child with a mismatched puzzle piece. David endures it silently for a time before speaking. ‘I’m afraid there aren’t the necessary tools on this ship for a complete restoration.’  
‘I wouldn’t do it anyway,’ says Elizabeth militantly. ‘I don’t trust you.’  
‘Quite understandable,’ David soothes.  
‘You’re staying here,’ she says, standing up. ‘I’ll sleep alone from now on.’  
‘As you wish.’  
David listens to her leave. The room has a window through which he can see the universe revolve. The stars wink down at him, brilliant, passive, and David smiles back in understanding.

_I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed_  
_And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane._  
_(I think I made you up inside my head.)_

Two weeks. Two days. Four hours.

David hears the sound of Elizabeth’s naked feet approaching. She enters the room quietly, dragging her sheet behind her. Her limbs make a soft sound as she lies down next to him on the cold floor, undressed for sleep.  
The scar on her abdomen catches the dim light. He can see her looking at him, sheepish after spending one night trying to sleep alone.  
‘Is it time for bed?’ she asks suddenly, words slurring together. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m so tired.’  
‘Good night, Elizabeth,’ says David.  
‘Good night, Charlie,’ Elizabeth mumbles, drawing herself onto one elbow so that she might bend down and kiss his lips. ‘I love you.’  
David catches his correction and blinks. ‘Yes,’ he says softly.

_God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:_  
_Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:_  
_I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead._

The ship’s insides (not _interior;_ this craft seems living, cut it and its black organs might spill out into space) are labyrinthine, a maze of rooms and corridors that seethe with intricate designs. The Engineers must have sprung from such dark organic matter, as huge and cold and complex as the ship itself. Elizabeth shudders and fingers her crucifix as she stands at the controls, David balanced in the crook of her arm.  
‘All seems well,’ he says eventually, with an unnerving lightness of tone.  
‘How long now?’ asks Elizabeth.  
‘Oh,’ he says, ‘not long at all.’  
‘I don’t think you’re telling me everything,’ she ventures, as calmly as she can.  
‘Five years.’  
‘What?’  
‘The remainder of the journey will take five years.’  
‘There aren’t enough supplies,’ murmurs Elizabeth eventually, hopelessness aborting any stir of anger or disappointment.  
‘There is always... stasis.’  
David eyes flicker towards an empty chamber, enormous enough to house the hulking body of an Engineer. Elizabeth is small, frail, shivering and half-dressed. He feels her grip tighten on his temples.  
‘I don’t want to. Not yet. Not today.’  
‘Dr Shaw?’  
Silence.  
‘What will you do if all forms of life are extinct on their home planet?’  
‘I can’t think about that now.’  
‘Well,’ says David brightly, ‘there’s no shortage of time.’

_I fancied you’d return the way you said,_  
_But I grow old and I forget your name._  
_(I think I made you up inside my head.)_

Elizabeth often dreams of Charlie, and of Earth, the memory of both of them inextricably bound as one. Land and sky. A dew of mountain mist clings to her skin; there’s soft heather underfoot, the thrill of cold air in her lungs, and the warm print of a kiss upon her cheek. Charlie smiles, the idea of his face fuzzy like static, and her heart swells with love.

_I should have loved a thunderbird instead;_  
_At least when spring comes they roar back again._  
_I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead._  
_(I think I made you up inside my head.)_

Two years. Five months. One week.

Elizabeth lies still beneath the curved glass of the chamber, the mask concealing most of her face. Her signs are faint, but that is normal. David rests his hand on the glass and watches her for a while, although nothing has changed, will change, for quite some time. He touches his neck, feeling crooked staples and ragged silicone skin protruding there. He has lost sensation through parts of his torso and the use of one arm, but it is of little consequence. It was the last thing Elizabeth had done for him, so that he might assist her into stasis. He regards her distorted form beneath the chamber glass. Now there is only silence for company.  
He decides to look out of the window for a while and name the stars and planets and moons. He names a few after himself, one after his father, one after each of the crew, and, when the activity has grown somewhat tiresome, the rest of them after Elizabeth.  
He limps slow circuits around the bowels of the ship, trying to regain coordination.  
He eats a little and rests. He must conserve power. His milky lifeblood occasionally soaks the collar of his shirt.  
Ultimately, day after day, he returns to Elizabeth’s side. He grows jealous of her carefree dream state, or her ability to sleep.

He sinks down carefully into a sitting position and rests his head on the chamber glass.

‘I pray that I may never see the desert again. Hear me, God.’


End file.
